


What Happens In Jersey

by HydesLittleOne



Series: Girl Like You [1]
Category: Actor RPF, American Idol RPF, Broadway RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mild Language, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1657040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HydesLittleOne/pseuds/HydesLittleOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Constantine returns to his old childhood home, intent on showing it to his girlfriend, Amy, he realizes that the person who owns the house is connected not only to his past, but Amy's as well. And not in a good way. Tensions arise that they must learn to work through together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens In Jersey

“Here it is,” said Constantine. Pulling up in front the large blue and white two-story stucco house, he put his black Corvette in park and shut off the engine. It seemed like centuries since he had been to the his old childhood home, but now, after thirty years, he was back. It felt a little weird, being there after so long. It almost felt as if he never left at all.

Amy turned her head and peered out of the passenger's side window. “Blue and white?” She glanced over at him with a questioning look.

He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled softly. “Yeah...I don't know what my mom and dad were thinking. I guess they liked the color.” He shook his head, his brows stitching in thought. “I don't know.”

She snickered. “Um—okay. So why are you bringing me here?”

For a moment, he thought she actually didn't want to be there, but the ghost of a smile on her face told him otherwise. She was only curious. “I wanted you to see where I grew up,” he replied with a smirk.

“How long has it been since you and your parents lived here?”

“We moved out a long time ago, a long, long freakin' time ago.”

She smirked. “I figured.”

“They finally upgraded to a bigger and better place,” he said with a grin. “They couldn't bear to leave Wyckoff, New Jersey. They love it here.”

Amy nodded her head. “So who lives here now? Did you check before we came?”

“No, but we don't have to go inside. It would be cool if they let us, but I'm not going to push it. I just wanted to check it out.” He took his keys out of the ignition and turned to exit the vehicle. “Come on, Doll.”

She followed behind him and got out of the car. He joined her on the other side, taking her hand in his hand and lifting it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it and smiling softly. “I just imagine this being like that MTV Diary episode when Christina Aguilera went back to her old home, and she was like,” she paused before imitating Christina, “'this is Bradford road, can you believe it?' 'Sorry but this is just my home, man. This is my home.'”

Constantine laughed in amusement. “I remember that show. Damn, that's so old school now. I never saw that episode though.”

“Oh my god, it was awesome! They were shocked when she came to the door, but they let her go in and look around.”

“Well she's Christina Aguilera. Of course they'd let her in. If I come knocking on their door, they'd ask who the hell I am.” He chuckled. “Then they'd probably call the cops on my ass.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes, giving his shoulder a shove. “Oh shut up, stop it. They would not.” She leaned in close to him, grabbing his shirt and tugging him in to kiss his lips softly. “You are still famous. Maybe not as famous as her, but people are assholes if they don't know who you are by now.”

Constantine's brows stitched, a deep scowl crossing his face. “I know it's easier to blame them, baby, but it's probably more my fault than it is theirs. Plus Idol was still in its early stages of popularity when I was on TV.” He patted his hand against his stomach. “And I was getting fatter and fatter with each episode, so it kinda...kinda took away from my singing.”

“Hey!” She grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging on it firmly and causing him to wince.

“Ow! Hey!” He exclaimed, trying to release her hold on his long dark hair.

“Stop or I'm going to pull on your sexy hair every time you talk down about yourself.”

“You already do when we're in bed,” he remarked, shoving her hand away. “Now you're taking it to the streets?”

She nodded her head, planting her hands firmly on her hips and sticking her tongue out at him. “Yeah.”

“I'm kidding. I exaggerate from time to time. It's what I do. Me putting myself down is a whole lot different, compared to when _you_ do it to yourself. When you do it...” His brows stitched and he shook his head with a deep scowl, “it's not cool, and none of it is true either.”

Amy heaved a deep sigh, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I'm pulling that damn hair as much as I want the next time we're in bed.”

Constantine grinned. “Do it. I won't complain.” She giggled. Constantine tensed up as she reached for his hair again, lifting a hand in defense.

“Chill, Greek Boy!” Her fingers plunged in his tresses, fluffing them a few times. “I'm not going to pull it. I just want to fluff it.”

He laughed lightly. “Why? Does it look that bad?” He turned away and walked over to the passenger's side mirror, quickly taking a peek at his reflection, running his fingers through his hair a few times.

“No, it looks as sexy as ever, but once is never enough for me. You know that. Your hair is as soft as a baby's ass.” She laughed. “I remember saying that to my friends so many times after we met. Well the first few times. I'm shocked you even let me touch your hair.”

“I was afraid to say 'no.'” He rose to his full height and looked over at her with a smirk. “And I thought I'd be nice. The second time you touched it, you didn't even ask. That was pretty awkward.”

“I was drawn to it! I can't help it. I wanted to feel the softness again in my hand.”

He chuckled, taking a few steps up to his old childhood home and staring up at it. “It hasn't changed that much. Except maybe those wind chimes on the porch, and those wicker chairs,” he pointed out with a snicker.

She rolled her eyes with a giggle. “Well of course, someone else lives here now.” She waved him to follow her up the driveway. “Come on, let's ask them if we can see inside.”

“Hey, wait!” He followed after her, stopping her before she could get too far up the drive and setting his hand on her shoulder. “I don't think they're just going to let us barge in on them like this.”

“We're not barging in on them. Just explain to them you used to live here, and ask them nicely if you can come in and show me your old room and stuff. You've got better people skills than I do, and are definitely better at convincing them than me.”

Constantine sighed deeply, running his fingers through his hair. “If this ends up in the tabloids tomorrow, I'm going to tell my agent this was your idea, not mine.”

Amy rolled her eyes once more and shrugged. “Fine. That's cool. Besides, I could use the publicity to launch my career.” He smirked, stepping up onto the porch. She followed and stepped up beside him at the door, leaning up on her tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “do the damn thing, sexy man.”

“Aw, wow, thanks for the confidence booster.” He chuckled softly before squaring his shoulders, clearing his throat and pressing his finger to the doorbell. A sheepish smile appeared on his face as Amy reached out to give his hair a few more fluffs, his brown eyes shifting upward.

“You're cute,” she remarked with a pucker of her lips.

The door opened a moment later and Constantine's brown eyes lit up in recognition, a smile spreading across his face. “Tim? Tim Espinoza?”

“Hey! Constantine!” The middle-aged, half-Caucasian, half-Hispanic man stepped forward with the same look of recognition on his face, throwing his arm around Constantine's shoulders and embracing him in a hug. “It's good to see you again, bud!”

Constantine embraced him right back, giving his back a pat. “It's good to see you too, man! Damn! It's been a long ass friggin' time! What are you doing, living in my old house?”

“This was your old house?”

“Yeah, man, back when I was like eight years old, my parents raised me in this house.”

“Wow! What a coincidence!”

“I guess so.” He chuckled. Constantine glanced over at a suddenly disgruntled Amy. “This is my girlfriend...” His voice trailed off when he saw her. Her back was turned away from the two men, her arms crossed firmly over her chest as she stared out at the street, from where she stood on the porch. His brows stitched inquisitively, he and Tim exchanging a look. “Hang on, man.” He stepped towards Amy, setting his hand on her shoulder. “Hey.” She barely glanced in his direction. “What's going on? Are you okay?”

“No, I'm not okay,” she grumbled. “I hate him.”

He froze, blinking in astonishment and glancing from her to Tim, then back to her. “What? Why? Wait, you two know each other?”

She lowered her voice to a tone that only he would hear. “Unfortunately, yes. He was once my musical theatre techniques teacher at my college. Then he turned into an ass and treated me like shit, which made me drop his class before I even began it.”

His brows arched in surprise. “He was? I didn't know that.” His brows stitched inquisitively. “You never told me you were taking musical theatre too.”

As happy as he wanted to be about this new information, he knew now wasn't the time for it. And it appeared that she wasn't in the mood either. The bewilderment on Constantine's face grew as he glanced back at Tim. There was a somber and wary look on his face. Did he know her too? Was what Amy was telling him true?

He heaved a deep sigh, running his fingers through his long dark hair. “And you didn't say or do anything to make him treat you like an ass.” His words sounded more like a question than a statement, but she barely glanced at him. Holding her gaze, he arched a skeptical brow, waiting for her to give him some sort of response.

She rolled her eyes. “Can we not talk about this right now? Especially with him standing over there.”

“Did you? Just answer the question.”

“No! He just assumed I was giving him attitude and he cursed at me.” Feeling tears forming behind her eyes, she bit down on her bottom lip, shaking her head and looking down at her feet. “Can we just not get into this right now? Please?”

Constantine quickly averted his irritable gaze away from her and stared off into the distance, nodding his head. He glanced back at her. “Look, I don't care what happened between you two, but Tim is my friend. And you better be nice to him, just like you have to be nice to all my other friends.”

“I'll say 'hi' but that's as far as I'm going. You know the saying, 'if I can't say anything nice...'” She shrugged. “Well you know the rest.”

He nodded then turned back around, grabbing her hand and leading her back to Tim. “As I was saying before, this is my girlfriend, Amy. I just came to show her the house I grew up in.”

Tim blinked in surprise, looking from Constantine to Amy then back to Constantine, staring at him almost incredulously. “Really? This is your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Constantine replied, exchanging a bewildered look with Amy.

An amused smile briefly crossed Tim's face.

Amy's eyes narrowed before she resorted to glowering at the man and uttered a flat, “hi.”

Tim stared sullenly at her, his expression almost flippant. “Hello.”

Constantine looked between the two of them. He could practically cut the tension that hung in the air with a knife. It was plain to see they had unresolved issues, but this wasn't what they were there for. Breaking the silence, he posed his burning question. “Do you mind if I bring her in and show her around? We won't stay long.”

After a long hesitation -- just as Constantine was about to apologize and bid his old friend a goodbye -- Tim nodded his head. “Sure,” he said casually. “Come on in.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside, allowing them to enter, giving Constantine a friendly smile.

“Thank you.” He said, giving Tim a pat on the shoulder on his way by.

Unfortunately, that smile didn't remain for Amy and that sullen look returned. Amy stayed close to Constantine's side, squeezing his hand as she rushed through the door. Tim shut the door behind them.

Constantine glanced back at Amy. “You okay?” She nodded her head. “Good.”

He stood in the foyer, taking a long look around at the living room he once occupied as a child. Thankfully, the tan walls hadn't been repainted. There was no need for it. He and his parents had been very neat and organized people, meticulous when it came to preserving the house. And the fireplace, the old gas powered fireplace was still there. The furniture was of course reupholstered, with more of a old Hollywood style. Tim's no doubt. “This was our living room,” he told Amy. He pointed out the fireplace, “my sisters and my brother and I used to pretend we were camping when my folks weren't home. Then we'd roast marshmallows and tell ghost stories near the fireplace.” He chuckled softly.

She giggled softly, nodding her head. “Aww! Cute.”

“That's a cute story,” Tim remarked with a smirk. “I hardly even use the fireplace myself, but my wife seems to like it.”

“You're married now, dude?” Constantine inquired, his brows stitching in thought. “What am I saying?” He nodded his head. “Of course you are. A guy like you...” He shook his head and chuckled.

Tim laughed. Amy couldn't help but roll her eyes, drawing a scowl from him. Constantine's gaze quickly darted to Amy, a scowl of his own to match. Tim shrugged his shoulders, “I got one of the good ones.”

Constantine glanced over his shoulder. “Is she here?”

“No, she's at work. She teaches musical theatre at BCC. You know? Bergen?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded his head, “cool. Well be sure to tell her I said 'hi.'”

“I will.”

“Your wife's cool with the living room like this? This place looks like a Bachelor pad, dude.” He laughed.

Tim chuckled. “For now she is. She's threatening to redecorate and throw it all out once we have kids.”

“Oh boy. I hope you get to hang onto at least some of this stuff." His brows stitched in thought, shaking his head. "Wow. Seeing you married, living with your wife like you're back in college while I've got a kid of my own, really ages me, man.”

"Oh you've got a kid? How old?"

“She's three. Her name is Malena James. Her mother and I sort of raise her together. You know? She takes care of her when I'm out on the road. And we switch off every now and then, so she can come out here and see my folks, and spend time with me in New York, so...”

Tim nodded and smiled. “Of course. Well that's good. I'm happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

Amy tugged at Constantine's hand impatiently. He glanced at her with a sullen expression, clearly conveying to her that he was not happy she was trying to rush him along.

“You can go look around,” Tim said, his words directed entirely at Constantine.

Constantine nodded his head. "Okay. Thanks man." He exchanged a look with Amy before tugging her through the foyer towards the kitchen. He stole a glance over his shoulder at her with a glare, keeping his voice quiet. “You better drop the attitude.”

She pulled her hand from his almost immediately, stopping just around the corner from the kitchen, staring incredulously at him. “What? Oh god, not you too. Don't be like him. I don't have an attitude. I didn't even say anything.”

“You didn't say anything, but I still saw you roll your eyes at him.”

“So...what? I can't roll my eyes? It's better than mouthing off, isn't it?”

Constantine ran his fingers through his hair then crossed his arms firmly over his chest. “Was that the same attitude you gave him before? If it is, I can see why he would treat you the way he did. If you're an ass to him, he's going to be an ass right back. He's a theatre teacher. Teachers like that don't take shit from just anyone, especially when they're working their asses off to prepare you for a career in the business of Broadway.”

He could see tears forming in Amy's eyes, and while the last thing he wanted to do was make her cry, he wasn't about to back down. He was going to give it to her straight, tell it like it is, because he had a hell of a lot more experience in the business of musical theatre than she did. Years of experience in which he had to harden his heart and accept not only rejection, but very strict, no nonsense teachers. Teachers so passionate about their craft, that they wouldn't take bullshit from anyone, not when they were getting paid to teach. Not when they were committed to guiding potential Broadway starlets to fame.

Constantine pointed in the direction they had just come. “If you think he's bad, you're going to have to deal with theatre directors who are ten times worse, and if you go into an audition with an attitude, they aren't going to just let it roll off their shoulders. They'll just kick you the fuck out of there, before you even utter a note.” He shook his head. “I'm not saying this to hurt you, Doll face. I'm just telling you how it is out there. If you want to make it in the business, you gotta change.”

Quickly brushing away a few tears from her eyes, Amy turned away from him, crossing her arms firmly over her chest and shaking her head. “I can't do this right now...” She murmured. “I love you Constantine, but I'm...” She paused, sniffling softly, “really fragile right now. Seeing him again just made me so mad, and now it's making me want to cry, because that day...that day he made me feel like shit, all I did was cry.”

Sighing deeply, Constantine stepped towards her, setting his hands on her shoulders. “I'm sorry, Doll, but that's life. That's the way of the business, you know? It's brutal. You gotta be better prepared for this kinda thing. I'm sure if you apologized to him, he'd--”

“I'm not apologizing.” She insisted. “Not after how much he made me cry.”

“Well that's your decision. I'm just saying, if you wanted to make things right, but it's up to you. I'm not going to force you to apologize.” He waited for her to say something, or even just turn around and face him, but she didn't, which caused him to sigh wearily. “Come on, baby. Don't cry,” he said softly, before he began rubbing his fingers gently into her shoulders.

Her heart skipped a beat at his touch, tingles dancing down her spine. The rubbing of her shoulders was relieving her tense muscles and gradually helping her to relax. A soft moan rose up in her throat. “Mm, that feels good.” He smiled softly to himself. “You don't hate me, do you?”

His brows stitched inquisitively, finding it crazy that she would even assume that of him. “No. I could never hate you. Are you going to turn around and look at me anytime soon?”

Her head fell back against his chest, her eyes falling shut with a moan. “Mmmm, not while that feels like heaven.”

“And last night wasn't heaven?” He inquired with a light laugh.

She giggled. “It was all that and heaven too.”

“That's what I thought. I better hurry up and show you the rest of the house, before Tim sees us like this and kicks us out.”

He didn't need to see her to know she was rolling her eyes again. “I'm not kidding. He probably will.”

“Yeah, you're probably right.” She grabbed his right hand, removing it from her shoulder and pressing a kiss to his knuckles before turning to face him. Taking his face in her hands, she stood up on her tip toes, attempting to reach his lips but to no avail. “Damn it!” She went back down on her heels, exhaling sharply and pouting up at Constantine. “You know, this being short sucks. Why must you be so damn tall? I can never reach your sexy lips.”

He laughed. “I think it was my pop's fault.”

“Maybe I should just pull you down by your hair so I can reach you.” She laughed.

“Oh god. If you pull on my hair anymore today, I won't have any left by tonight. It's all going to fall out.”

“Oh shush! It will not.” Slinging her arm around his neck, she pulled him in and pressed her lips to his, kissing him passionately.

He moaned against her lips, cupping her face in his hands and opening his mouth wider, pulling back a few seconds later. “Okay, seriously, we can't be making out in Tim's house. He'll kick us out.”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Okay, fine, show me your other childhood things.”

“I would, but most of my childhood things are long gone. We got rid of that stuff a long time ago, except for a few things I've hung onto that are stashed away back at my apartment.”

She gave his chest a light slap, a smirk crossing her face. “You know what I mean.”  
He nodded his head and smirked. “I know. I'm kidding.” Taking her hand in his, he led her around the corner and into a white and brown country style kitchen. There was that same island he remembered in the middle of the room, and a rack of stainless steel pots and pans hanging above it. The dining room sat just adjacent to the kitchen, and a sliding glass door led to the backyard.

“Let me guess, this was your old kitchen,” Amy remarked with a giggle.

“Duh!” Constantine laughed, pointing to the white tiled counter tops. “Even though they were older than me, and being that was taller, I remember having to lift my sisters up just so they could reach the cookie jar. They used to get mad at me all the time,” he pointed at the cupboards as he continued on, “because I was the only one could reach the snacks in the cupboard, so they'd accuse me of eating their fruit roll ups all the time. So I kinda had an advantage. I was like 50 feet tall by the time I was 8.”

Amy and Constantine giggled. “Aww!" She cooed. "You were not that tall by then. You aren't even that tall now. You exaggerate way too much. Like for real.”

“I exaggerate because it makes it easier to laugh at myself. You should try it sometime, instead of being so negative all the time.” He said, giving her a pointed look and shaking his head. “That's no way to be.”

She scoffed. “Easier said than done, Greek boy. I find no humor in my flaws.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Well it wouldn't hurt you to lighten up a little more, you know? I feel like you constantly assume everyone in this world is out to get you, and they're not.”

Amy gaped at him. “How did we get here all of a sudden? Are we getting into yet another fight?” She lifted her hands to her head and looked down at the floor. “Please let's not fight.”

He blinked, a bewildered expression crossing his face. “We're not. See, this is exactly what I'm talking about. I'm just trying to show you you've got people on your side. You can't assume that everything I say or someone else says is meant to hurt you. I hate seeing you so upset all the time. I want you to be happy. I want you to smile more, but more importantly, I just want you to be good to people. You let way too many things get to you, instead of just shrugging it off and moving on. You need to relax a little more. You'd be surprised how much better your life can be.”

A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. While his words hurt her, she hated to admit that in a way...he was right. She gently nodded her head, a few more tears tickling down her cheeks. “I'm trying. You know I have medication for my depression and anxiety, but honestly, all I can do is try.”

Constantine scowled deeply, lifting his free hand and brushing away her tears with the pad of his thumb. He gently nodded his head. “I know, I know. Don't cry. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his loving and reassuring embrace. Her arms willingly and immediately enveloped his waist. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He didn't regret his words. Not a single one of them. He had been trying to get through to her for months now. All he could do was hope that she realized the significance of his words, and kept working hard to make her life what she truly wanted it to be, to make a change for the better, to feel better.

“I'm sorry. I'm such a drama queen,” she muttered into his chest.

“It's okay, baby,” he said. “The only advice I can give you is to take all that drama and put it into your theatre classes. You're still taking that other acting class, right?” She nodded. Pulling away the slightest bit, he looked down at her. “Then use it to your advantage instead of letting it consume you. Instead of taking that aggression out on everyone else, put it into your work, in the work you do in that class. That's what I would do, that's what I want you to do.”

She nodded once more. “I know. And you're right. I should...start doing that.” She gave him a small smile. “That's some good advice, Mr. Maroulis.”

“Oh god, don't call me that. It makes me feel like I'm 100 years old.”

Amy giggled, giving his shoulder a shove. “Oh stop! I told you, no more picking on yourself or exaggerating. It makes me want to slap some sense into you.”

Constantine gaped at her. “You better not slap me.”

“Then accept your sexiness, Greek Boy.”

His brows drew together inquisitively, stealing a quick glance over his shoulder, pretending as if he thought she was talking to someone else. He shook his head. “I'm not sexy, but I'd rather be 'Greek Boy' than 'Mr. Maroulis.'”

“Oh please, you're bringin' sexy back!” She lifted her fist in the air, pushing it towards him. " _Hard_.”

All of a sudden, the two of them started laughing. His laughter almost immediately died down when he remembered where they were and quickly brought his finger up to his lips, hushing her. “Shh...”

She cringed and fell quiet. “Sorry.”

“Oh boy. Now I'm Justin Timberlake?” He shook his head once again. “I will never, in my life, be as big as that dude.”

“You will...if you get like hundreds of endorsement deals and shit, or do some movies or a huge TV show that everyone watches like _Dancing With The Stars_.” She reached out, wrapping her arms a little tighter around his waist and pouting up at him. “I want you on there so bad, or to host SNL.”

“You think it's that easy? I gotta be invited to do SNL, doll face.” His brows stitched once more as he continued to shake his head. “And I already told you once before, you're not getting me on _Dancing With The Stars_. I can't dance to save my life.”

She rolled her eyes. “And I told _you_ that they teach you. Lance even told you the same thing on air. That's what they're there for. You'd be awesome with Kym Johnson or Ana Trebunskaya, but definitely Kym because she usually gets all the really tall guys anyway.” Lifting her hand to her mouth, she giggled softly.

Constantine chuckled but remained firmly set in his decision, shaking his head once more, “sorry Doll. As much fun as it would be, and as amazing as it would be to work with those two hot mamas, it's just not for me.”

“You suck, you know that.”

“No, you suck...” He leaned in close to her ear to whisper, his soft and silky long hair brushing against the side of her cheek, a grin spreading across his face, “me later.”

A soft moan rose up in her throat, followed by a soft sigh. Taking his face in her hands, she brought his gaze to meet her own. “How about right here and now?”

His jaw fell open in astonishment. “I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.”

“Just think, if you spray--” Her words died on her lips as quickly as his hand came over her mouth to silence her.

He pointed a very firm finger at her. “Stop it. Right now. I'm not going to do that. This isn't my house anymore, and even if it were, I wouldn't do it when my parents are around. Tim's an old friend of mine, and I'm not going to burn my bridges by disrespecting his home like that. I'm not that kinda guy.”

“Constantine?”

Hearing his name being called, he looked over Amy's shoulder and saw Tim stepping around the corner. “Yeah man?”

“Did you finish checking out the house?” He asked.

“Uh –- we saw a little bit of it, yeah, but if you want us to leave now, dude, that's cool.” Constantine shrugged his shoulders, his hand still over Amy's mouth. “We can come back another time.”

“No, that's alright. You can stay a little while longer. I was just checking up on you. Is everything okay?”

Constantine exchanged a look with Amy, before nodding his head at his old friend. She rolled her eyes dramatically at the man's question. “Yeah, everything's cool. Thanks.” Tim nodded, turned then disappeared around the corner. Letting out a breath, he hadn't realized he was holding in, Constantine slowly removed his hand from her mouth.

“I could of bit your hand, you know that,” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully and planting her hands on her hips.

He cringed. “Ouch. It's a good thing I pulled it away in time.”

She giggled softly, glancing back at the place he had previously showed her. “So what else happened in this kitchen?”

“Well, we ate for one thing.” He replied with a smirk.

Amy rolled her eyes. “I know _that_ , smart ass. Did your mom cook? Or your dad?”

“My mom, and she's a hell of a good cook. She fed my sisters and I so well, it's hard to believe I stayed so damn skinny.”

She scoffed. “Oh stop, you've always been skinny. It's probably because you're a Virgo, like me. I don't gain that much weight either, even if I eat a lot. I guess it's my metabolism or something.”

He shook his head. “No. I don't think my zodiac sign has anything to do with it. It's probably genetic or something. My pop is pretty skinny too.” He grabbed her hand, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Turning on his heels, he tugged on her hand and led her off in the direction of the backyard. “Come on, I got a couple more things to show you.” Having no other choice, she followed behind him, her gaze continuing to roam around her surroundings.

“Dining room, which isn't yours anymore.” She cocked her head to peek into an open door, “bathroom. Got it. So you have any cute stories about your dining room that used to be here?”

His steps slowed until he came to a halt, just off the dining room, glancing back at her with a smirk. “Ah...no, sorry. I wish I did. We had a huge dining room table though, you know, when things got crazy during the holidays and we had the whole family over.”

“So you guys were like the whole _My Big Fat Greek Wedding_ movie?” She beamed.

He chuckled and tossed his head to one side. “Sort of. We were big but we weren't that big. It seems crazier when you think about it,” he shook his head, "but it really wasn't like that.”

She nodded. “Okay...well,” she waved her arm in front of her, “continue leading the way, handsome.”

Constantine grinned. “Okay.” He continued past the dining room, and stopped at the sliding glass door of the backyard. Flipping up the hinge to unlock it, he opened the door with his free hand and tugged her outside into the partly cloudy afternoon. Looking around the spacious backyard, he said, “back when I was about eight up until my teenage years, my pop and I used to play ball out here. We'd have a catch.” He pointed to a small hill in the center of the lush green yard, covered by a patch of dirt, “I'd take turns throwing curves at him, or he'd try to strike me out. But his arm wasn't nearly as good as mine.” He glanced back at her, beaming with pride.

She shook her head in disbelief and rolled her eyes. “You and your friggin' baseball. All your life, huh?”

“It wasn't _always_ about baseball. That wasn't my whole life and to this day, it still isn't, but it is at the top of my list. I'll admit to that. I was a Broadway baby too, you know. I got the acting bug pretty early. We'd put on shows out here for my folks too, my sisters, my brother and I. We'd do this whole West Side Story thing. And hey, you're forgetting, I have a daughter. She's a top priority too.”

Her heart warmed at the mention of Malena. She smiled softly. Looking down at their hands, she sighed softly. “Am I on that list anywhere? Even if it's at the bottom?”

“Of course you are, but come on, what kinda boyfriend do you think I am? You're not at the bottom.” He leaned in, cupping her cheek with his freehand and softly kissing her lips.

She smiled against his lips. “You better say that.” She giggled, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

He chuckled softly, lifting his hand to finger the ends of his hair. “Or what? You're gonna try to pull my hair again?”

“Maybe, and maybe drag my nails down your back too, like a lion.” She made a claw with her hand and pretended to paw at him. “Raaawr!”

“You can save that for tonight,” he said with a wink. “As long as you don't claw my pale, pasty ass skin off.” He chuckled softly.

“Oh shut up! Your skin is not pale and pasty! And it's far too sexy for me to ever claw off,” she said with a giggle. “I'm not Hannibal Lector. Or was it Leather face?”

“It was Leather face, babe. Hannibal didn't just skin people. He used to eat them too, hence the name.”

She cringed. “Ew, okay. Well, I'm neither.”

“Good news for me.”

“Yes, good news for you in general. Looking as fine as you do, every day of your life!”

Constantine blushed. “Oh boy...I'll be lucky if I can fit my huge ass head through the car door by the time I leave Jersey, with all the compliments you've been throwing my way since we got here.”

“Hey,” she poked her finger in his chest, “you deserve the compliments for your hottness!”

He shook his head. “No...”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“ _Yes!_ Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” She argued, sticking her tongue out at him.

“A million times ' _no_ ,'” he retorted.

“You're going to have to accept the fact that you're hot as fuck one of these days, Mr. Constantine Maroulis.”

He glanced back towards the house then brought his finger to his lips. “Shh...keep it down.”

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. “What? I'm not loud.”

“Sometimes you are. You do tend to _talk_ too loud.”

She sighed softly. “Well I'm sorry.” Turning her head, she took another look around the yard. “So, what else happened out here?”

Constantine shrugged. “Uh...my folks and the rest of the family would hang out out here from time to time, during the holidays. Play ball, have a barbeque. My whole family was into baseball, not just me. And we had a pretty good view of the fireworks from the Wyckoff Gardens.”

“The Wyckoff Gardens?” She inquired with a smirk.

“Yeah. It's this huge park, but it's also a garden. You gotta see it. It's amazing. They have this awesome fireworks spectacular on the 4th of July.”

“Sounds romantic,” she beamed, giving his hand a squeeze.

He nodded his head and smirked. “It is. My mom and my sisters sure seem to love it. They'd take walks there all the time, while my pop and I stayed home playing ball with my cousins.” He chuckled softly.

“No surprise there,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anything else I should know about your yard? Did you have a tree house? A secret hideout?”

“No, no secret hideout, unless you count the basement, where me and the rest of the kids were watching the World Series games on a small TV set. We didn't have like a cool tree house though,” he replied with a shake of his head. “We were too poor to afford one.” He smiled softly.

“Well you ain't poor anymore.”

“This is true,” he said matter-of-factually, pointing a finger her way. While he wasn't poor anymore and hadn't been for some time – since he had gained success from being a season four finalist on _American Idol_ , and gained the lead role in _Rock of Ages_ – he still had to provide the mother of his child, Angel Reed, with money to support Malena. More often than not, he didn't seem to mind it. Since he wasn't around the two girls much, all he could do was hope and pray that Angel was spending it wisely, and not selfishly. Nor on frivolous things. As of late, it hadn't been an issue, but one never could tell. The saying still rang true, that when the cat was away, the mouse would play.

He turned and waved her to follow him back inside the house. “Come on, Doll. I got one more thing to show you.”

“What? No swimming pool?” She inquired as she followed behind him.

“Like I said, we were poor. All we had was one of those ghetto kid pools you buy at Target for like fifty bucks.”

“Well you might have been poor, but if you could afford one of those pools, you weren't really that poor. They're more than fifty bucks nowadays. At least a hundred dollars.”

He shrugged. “My mom bought the stupid thing, and plus, that was a long friggin' time ago so I don't remember exactly how much it was. Somewhere around there.” Reaching behind him, he slid the backyard door shut and flipped the hinge down, locking it back up. Taking her hand back into his, he led her through the dining room, the kitchen and down the hall towards the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder at her, lowering his tone of voice. “Try not to say anything when we pass by,” he whispered.

Her jaw dropped in shock. “What would I say?”

“I can think of a hundred things, some of which I'd rather not mention right now. Just keep looking straight ahead.” His hold tightened on her hand as they stepped out of the hallway, seeing Tim out of the corner of his eye as they passed the living room. He was sitting on the couch, his legs stretched out on the coffee table before him, one ankle crossed over the other. Glancing over at the man, he exchanged a look with him then with Amy, leading her upstairs to the place he had once called his bedroom. Thankfully, she didn't say a word or voice a remark.

When he stepped through the second door on the right, it was no longer his bedroom, but instead, an office. A very modern day looking office. A set of long white silk curtains were opened across the room, allowing the faint light of day to cast a gloomy mask against the large window. The sun was shining when they first arrived, but now it shined no more. It was almost as if the house sensed its old owner had returned to gather the memories of his past, and show them to his current love interest, but unfortunately, after this day, he would not be returning. “It may not look like much now, but this was my bedroom. Well, mine and my brother's.”

Amy peeked her head into the room and nodded. “Spacious.” She sighed softly, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I wish I could of seen it back then. Do you have pictures of it?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod of his head. “Yeah, my mom has tons of pictures of me from when I was a kid.” A mischievous smile crept across his face. “That doesn't mean I'm going to let you see them though.”

“Aww, come on! You can't do that to me! Then you're just teasing me.” Her bottom lip poked out in a pout. “I haven't seen enough pictures of you as a little kid.”

He shook his head. “No!” He chuckled softly. “You don't need to see me. I look like a dork!”

“Yes I do!” She argued with a giggle, pointing a finger a him. “And no you don't. You probably look adorable. I'm going to see those pictures eventually.”

He pursed his lips, his brows arching in surprise. “Oh God...” He rubbed his hands together, contemplating it for a moment before nodding, “alright, but if I show you mine,” he pointed a finger at her, “you gotta show me yours.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh god no!” She covered her suddenly red face with her hands, shaking her head. “No.”

“If I'm going to go there, you gotta go there too, mama.”

She rolled her eyes. “I'll think about it. I'm not making any promises.”

“Then neither am I.” He said with a chuckle before stepping further into the room. He pointed to the right wall, where a large black and white laminate desk now sat, gesturing with his hands as he described his room to her. “I had this huge Rickey Henderson poster right here above my bed, and this huge collection of baseball cards, and this really cool glove I got from my cousin, Bill, that has like 30 signatures on it. In fact, I still have that thing. It goes with me on the road.” He turned around, stepping towards the far corner of the room and spreading his arms, “My bed was here in the corner and Athan's was near the door, but my room was like _covered!_ ”

Amy shook her head in disbelief, rolling her eyes and giggling at his drop in octave with his last word. Crossing her arms over her chest, she took a few steps into the room. “Like I said before, typical you with your baseball stuff. Your shrine. Was it covered with Yankees stuff, as much as the office in your apartment right now?”

“More! Three times more! You'd trip on a glove or a bat coming in here, if you weren't careful.” He said with a smirk.

She blinked in astonishment. “More? Damn!”

He laughed. “I know! My whole family, were like hardcore Yankees fans.”

“You'll always be a die hard Yankees fan.”

“Always!” He threw his hand up in a “rock” symbol. “Yankee strong! Yankees for life! Till the day I die.”

Linking her fingers together, she pushed her arms out in front of her, palms facing out, her gaze roaming over her surroundings. She shook her head with a snicker. “I never thought I'd be standing in Constantine Maroulis' childhood home.”

He laughed once more. “Oh please, you didn't even know who I _was_ before Jekyll  & Hyde.”

She crossed her arms over her chest once more, a smile creeping across his face. “I had _some_ idea...vaguely. A vague idea.”

Constantine crossed his own arms over his chest, pursing his lips and nodding his head. He could see right through her. “Right...”

“Okay, so I didn't know you until then, but that's not the point I'm trying to make. I mean, obviously, I can't go back in time to actually be here when all this happened, and seeing you...looking as cute as you probably did, but it still feels nice to see it all. In my mind or otherwise.”

He crossed towards her, cupping her cheek in his hand and smiling softly. “Well I'm glad you could see it.” Leaning in, he covered her lips with his, kissing her tenderly. She moaned softly, her brows arching intriguingly, her left arm slipping around his lean waist, her right hand slipping into his hair.

“I want you...here and now,” she murmured against his lips.

“I want you too, baby, but I told you. This...” Constantine hissed, shaking his head, “isn't the right place for it. If it were any other place and another time...” He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, “wait till we get back to the apartment, or the hotel.”

“How about a quickie in the car?”

He grinned and winked at her. “Maybe, but only if you place nice with Tim.”

“And what if I'm a bad girl? Will I get a spanking?” She giggled softly, lifting her hand to cover her open mouth.

Constantine gave her his infamous “Hyde” evil-eyed look. The one he knew would drive her wild. “Do you really want to put me to the test?”

Just as he expected, her breathing noticeably quickened, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath she took, her brown eyes dilating with arousal. “Maybe...if I don't faint from that look you're giving me right now.”

The look vanished from his eyes and he chuckled. “Oh god, no, don't faint.”

She giggled. “Well I won't now that you're back to Constantine and not Hyde.”

“You're pretty friggin' lucky. I don't bring my work home with me for just anyone.”

She patted her hand rapidly against her chest. “Oh Lord, I know!” Stealing a glance over her shoulder towards the open door, she reached out, grabbing his member and rubbing him through the crotch of his jeans.

Constantine gasped, his eyes falling shut of their own accord. He groaned softly, heat rushing straight down to his member, causing it to throb with his suddenly overwhelming arousal, his hips bucking towards her in response. “Fuck, Amy...” He bit down on his bottom lip, trying to resist the urge to give into his growing need for her, to be inside her.

> _This isn't the place for it, Con._  
>  _And this isn't your house._  
>  _Later dude...later._  
>  _Not now. Later._

It took a huge amount of courage within himself, to get up the nerve to push her hand away, especially when something else was already...up. “We gotta stop.” He glanced down at the very large bulge in his pants, then her wrist he held in his hand.

She pouted, looking down at the bulge in his pants. A mischievous smile crept across her face as she looked up at him. “But you're already--”

“I know!” He exclaimed incredulously. “And that's why. If we start this here, I don't think I'll be able to stop.” He ran his fingers through his long dark curls in frustration.

“And I don't _want_ you to stop.”

Constantine sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “You're not making this any easier for me.”

“Sorry.” She pulled her hand back and shoved both of her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, looking down at her feet in discouragement. And yet, he could still see her eyes wandering towards his erection again, which only fueled his raging hormones. “You're right. You wanna go?” She took a peak up at him.

He nodded his head. “That's probably a good idea.” He ran his fingers through his hair once more, glancing awkwardly down at his crotch. “I don't know how in the hell I'm going to make it downstairs like this.” He blinked as she started laughing hysterically, his gaze instantly growing cold. “Shut up! It's not funny!”

Her laughter ceased as she seemed to force herself to fall quiet, clearing her throat and nodding her head. “Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry, baby. How _are_ you going to make it downstairs?” She seemed to bite back an amused smile, but he could still see it shining in her eyes.

“I don't know!”

“Well, you could...hold your hands in front of you, like you sometimes do when you're sitting. Too bad you're not wearing a hat, you could put that...over it.”

“Shit! That's a good idea, but who knows. If I did that, it would probably be pretty obvious there's something going on down there, so it might not work out too well.”

“Just hold your hands in front of you like this...” She turned to the side, linking her hands together and folding them over her crotch.

Constantine snickered. “Yeah, that won't look obvious,” he remarked with a roll of his eyes.

“I could give you some relief...if you really want,” she beamed.

“No.” He took a couple steps backward, pointing a finger at her. “Stay away from me, horny fangirl. I'm not letting you lay another hand on my body until we're far, far away from this place.”

She pouted. “Boo you whore. You act like I'm going to jump your bones right here and now.”

“You would. And I don't know if you noticed, you know,” he pointed with both hands, down at his crotch, “from the situation in my pants, but I'm a guy. The last I checked, guys can't be whores.”

“You're right I would, but seriously, fine. If you're going to be a big baby about it,” she took a step back, lifting her hands before her in defense, “I won't touch you until we're in the car and on the road.”

“You messing with me like that while I'm on the road, is going to get us into a car accident. How's that any better?”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, alright, fine. I'll wait. Satisfied?”

“Not yet...” he said, glancing down at his crotch with a sheepish smile, “but I will be.”

“We both will be.” She winked at him, before turning on her heels, strolling out of the room into the upstairs hallway.

Being as careful as he could be, he took a few slow, stiff steps towards the door, making his way out of the room. Seeing her amused smile, he shot a glare in her direction. “Wipe that smile off your face.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Sorry.”

He glanced from her to the stairs then back at the room they'd just stepped out of. “Maybe we should wait a while until it goes away.”

“Why don't you just let me give you some relief? Or you could go into the bathroom and...” She cleared her throat. “Relieve yourself.”

Glancing towards the bathroom, that didn't sound like such a bad idea after all. He could flush any evidence away and no one would be the wiser, but to be honest, given the choice, he'd rather have her do it for him. It would be more enjoyable that way. He leaned back against the wall in the upstairs hallway. “Just give it a few minutes. It'll pass...eventually.”

She glanced back towards the office. “You want to sit down or something? Or can you guys not do that when you're...you know?”

He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I don't think sitting down would be a good idea, then even more blood rushes to my dick.”

Bringing her hand up to her face, she tried as she might to hide her smile. “Right. Got it. So we're driving back to New York tonight?”

“Yeah. We could stay with my folks, if you want to go see the Wyckoff Gardens tomorrow.”

“And how do you expect we would be able to screw, with your parents in the next room, or down the hall?”

“Down the hall. And you're right. If that's the case, that might be pretty awkward.”

She chuckled softly. “Uh – yeah.”

“Can we change the subject, and talk about something a little less...sexual?”

“Sorry. Okay. Do you like my shoes?” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and glanced down at her feet, crossing her right ankle over her left. On her feet, she wore a pair of Jessica Simpson designer boots, made of brown suede with two inch wood heels.

Constantine smiled softly. “Yeah. They're kinda noisy, but they're nice. I think I remember you wearing those before though.” He shrugged. “Back when we first met.”

She chuckled softly and looked down at his shiny black leather boots. “I like your boots too. They're sexy, and they look good on you, but I've told you that before, even if you weren't listening at the time.”

“I was probably distracted, but I'm listening now. Thanks baby.”

“You're welcome. So what else can we talk about? When are you doing your next musical?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. Whenever the opportunity comes around. I've been thinking about doing Toxie again.”

“Toxie? Oh! _The Toxic Avenger_! Yeah, I heard you were in that before. I've only seen brief previews of it though.”

“Go on You Tube. I'm sure you'll find something. Or check Broadway World. They'll probably have some archive stuff.”

“I'm always on You Tube. You should see how many interviews and performances I've favorited of you. You Tube is like my Graceland!”

“Oh God...I don't want to know.”

She giggled softly. “And here I'd think you'd be flattered.”

“I probably should be, but oh man...some of those interviews suck.”

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “You're still as hot as ever in them. I don't care how old they are. I was looking at you and not the interviewer.”

“Of course you were.”

A moment of quiet fell between them. Constantine glanced down at the crotch of his pants, realizing that his erection was slipping away. “I think it's going away.”

“Okay, well let me find something else that's boring to talk about that'll get your mind off you-know-what.”

“If those You Tubes were that boring, I don't think you would of bothered to favorite them.”

“I didn't mean _that_ was boring. Okay, let me see...” Her mind wandered off as she chewed on her bottom lip. She fingered a few strands of her hair. “I've been meaning to ask you. Should I go blonde?”

He shook his head. “No. I like your hair the way it is.”

“Well thank you, but yours is ten times better! Don't you dare cut it.”

“Sooner or later...”

“No! There's no sooner or later! Never. Please?” She pressed her hands together, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet and stared at him with pleading eyes. “Please don't. It's so beautiful, and it looks so damn sexy blowing in the wind!”

He laughed lightly, lifting his hand to fluff his hair a few times, which resulted in making her squeal joyfully, both of her hands slapping over her mouth. “Shh!” He hushed her, bringing his finger back to his lips. “I knew I should of thought twice before doing that,” he said, glancing towards the stairs.

“I'm sorry. I just love when you do that.” She laughed lightly. “Do it again.”

“No. Seriously, do you know how unruly this huge mop of hair is? How hard it is to constantly maintain? You haven't seen me enough times when I roll out of bed in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and beaming from ear-to-ear. “Well you do a pretty damn good job of maintaining it, if I do say so myself.”

“Well thank you, but someday, you know, whether its for a role or whatever, I'm going to have to get some of it cut.” He shrugged. “Sorry Doll.”

Amy shook her head in disbelief. “I will not be happy with you Greek Boy.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “God, Amy, its just hair. It'll grow back. That's not the only reason you want to be with me, is it? Because of my hair?”

“No, of course not. Just...forget it.” She turned away from him, her arms still crossed over her chest. “We shouldn't of even started talking about hair.”

“You brought it up, not me.”

“I just love your beautiful long hair, that's all...” She said softly.

“Like I said before, it'll grow back.” He glanced down at his crotch, realizing his erection had gone away. Exhaling a huge sigh of relief, he stepped towards her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “It's gone. We can head out now.”

She glanced back at him with a bewildered expression. “What's gone?” Her gaze followed his to his pants. “Oh...okay.” Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she stepped towards the landing of the stairs, waving him to go first. “You go first,” she whispered.

Without another word, Constantine descended the stairs and returned to Tim's living room.

“Hey man, we're going to get going,” he declared, glancing back at Amy as she came up behind him, though refusing to look in Tim's direction. Not surprisingly.

Tim pushed himself up to his feet and stepped towards Constantine. “Did you get a good look around?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, we did. Thanks a lot, I appreciate it.” He extended his hand to Tim.

Tim took it and gave it a shake before Constantine pulled the man in, giving him a friendly hug and a goodhearted pat on the back. “No problem. It was nice to see you again.”

Constantine pulled back and nodded his head in regard, noticing Amy inching towards the door out of the corner of his eye. “Good seeing you too, man. Maybe I'll stop by again sometime, you know, now that I know where you live.” He laughed lightly.

Tim laughed along with him. “Exactly. You probably know this house better than I do. And I hope we'll be seeing each other again too.”

“Alright, dude. Take care.”

“You too, and take care of that little girl of yours.”

“I will, I will.” Just as Constantine turned to leave, Amy had already opened the front door. He glanced from her to Tim, then back at her, his forehead wrinkling in thought. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't walk out that door. Not until he got some answers. There was something that was still plaguing him. Something he didn't understand. Something that couldn't possibly be true. There were always two sides of a story, and before he weighed what was fact and what was fiction, he needed to hear both of them. He'd questioned the plaintiff. Now it was time to question the defendant. He stole another glance over his shoulder at his former classmate – who, from the look on his face, assumed they were leaving – then stepped towards Amy. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he pulled out his car keys and handed them to her. “Why don't you go wait for me in the car, Doll face. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

With a bewildered expression, she gingerly took his car keys. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Don't worry about it,” he insisted. “Just go wait for me in the car.”

She shot a glare in Tim's direction then up at Constantine, before turning and marching off towards his car. Sighing heavily, Constantine shut the door behind her and looked back at Tim.

“She gave me the same attitude when she left my class,” Tim said pointedly.

“She did?” Constantine asked. Tim nodded his head. Shaking his head in disbelief, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, man, I don't understand what happened between you and her. And since I don't, I can't exactly go placing the blame on someone unless I know the whole story and what exactly went down. All she told me was that you claimed she had an attitude, and that she was so broken up about it, that she dropped your class.”

Tim scowled. “That was the cliff notes version.”

“Do you mind telling me the whole thing?”

“I don't mind. The question is, are you ready to hear it?”

“Yeah, man, let's hear it.”

Tim walked over to an big brown armchair adjacent to the couch and lowered himself into it. Constantine followed the man's lead and took a spot on the couch, folding his hands in front of him.

“When she first started my class, she seemed like she had real promise to work in musical theatre,” said Tim. “She sang a Frank Wildhorn song and her voice was just gorgeous.”

A smirk crossed his Constantine's face. “What song did she sing?”

“I think it was 'A New Life' from _Jekyll & Hyde_.”

“She loves that song, and she _kills_ at singing it! She can belt like nobody's business. It's amazing.”

Tim nodded. “She was. One of the best voices I'd heard in my classes in a long time. So about the second week, my department partner, Jody, was holding auditions for 'Macbeth,' and she was using the studio.” Constantine smiled inwardly at the mention of a Shakespeare production, but outwardly, nodded his head in regard, letting the man know that he was following his story. “Amy and a few of the other students in my class were waiting outside, so I was kind enough to let them go in, and wait at the back of the room until Jody finished up.”

“Right, right...”

“One of our former cast members sang a piece for the students, and Jody declared that the students raise their right hand and take an oath, as an actor, to bring your own brand when you come to the stage. And Amy was the only one who didn't bother doing it. I saw her. Jody and I both saw her. She even made an announcement, and declared Amy as the only student who didn't do it.”

“What?” Constantine's brows stitched inquisitively. “I don't understand. Why wouldn't she do it?”

“She made an excuse that she was tired, or she wasn't feeling good. Something like that. I don't know.”

Constantine rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “I seriously doubt it was because of one of those reasons.”

“Whatever it was, that's no excuse. Excuses aren't welcome in my class, or in the business of theatre.”

He nodded his head in agreement. “You're right. That's no excuse at all. But for her to not doing something that could potentially _help_ her performance?” He looked at the man incredulously then shook his head once more. “Dude...I'm sorry, I don't know what goes on in her head half the time.”

“I don't think anyone does, but the last thing you owe me is an apology. She brought this on herself.”

Constantine nodded, rubbing his palms against one another then folding them in front of him once more. “So, is that all that happened or is there more to it than that?”

“I passed out the music selections for each individual student during my class, and I warned her that if she ever gave me attitude like that again, I'd kick her out of my class. She didn't confront me about it until the end of class.”

He sighed heavily. “What did she say?”

“She wanted to know why I gave her that warning. I explained to her that I wasn't going to take that shit from her in my class, and neither would anyone else. I told her that if she expected to make it in this business, she was going to have to drop the attitude, because no one is going to hire her until she does. Even as I started talking, I could tell that my words were going in one ear and out the other, because all she could do was stand there and roll her eyes, claiming that she didn't have an attitude. I told her she can either shape up or there's the door. She told me she had already dropped the class, so I bid her good-bye and that was it.”

Constantine shook his head in disbelief, his gaze wandering away from the man before him to look down at his feet. “I can't believe she would act that way, that she wouldn't take it seriously. That she would throw it all away by letting her attitude get in the way. That's not cool. I don't know what was going through her head at the time, if she was having a bad morning or what, you know,” he suddenly lifted his gaze to meet Tim's, nodding his head, “but you're absolutely right. She can't be acting like that, or taking an attitude with everyone if she expects to make it in this business. She's gonna have to learn to lighten up a little, because as much experience as I've had, I know that directors will kick you out on your ass, if you so much as look at them the wrong way.”

Tim nodded. “No truer words could of ever been spoken, Con. If she shapes up and gets herself into gear, she could be great, but from what I can see, she's still the same person she was before, and she's still got that attitude. That's going to hold her back.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I tried explaining the way of the business to her, and I'm hoping she actually takes all this into consideration, but...” He shook his head. “I don't know, man. She's friggin' stubborn as hell, more stubborn than me.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows. That attitude might work in her favor, but _only_ if she can take it out of her everyday life, and actually put it into portraying a character on stage.”

Tim leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “It'll take a lot of discipline, and a lot of work.”

“She can do it. I know she can.”

“What makes you so sure?”

There was a long pause, in which Constantine used as a moment of reflection on everything. Everything that had just been said between them, the future of his relationship with Amy, and her future as a potential Broadway starlet.

“Because I'm going to be the one to help her do it,” he declared.

Tim's brows arched in surprise. “You think you can pull it off?”

“If _anyone_ can pull it off, it's me. I mean, come on, she practically worships the ground I walk on.” He chuckled softly. “I got this, man.” He rose to his feet, extending his hand to the other man.

Tim followed suit, slapping his hand against Constantine's, their fingers curling together as Constantine pulled the other man in and pat his back. The man nodded his head. “Well good luck with that. Let me know how it turns out.”

“You know I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> For now, this is a one shot / stand alone story for this ship. I haven't decided whether or not I want to add another chapter to it, that would show Constantine helping Amy to better herself, and become a better performer. If I get good reviews on this one, and enough people want it, or if I get bored enough, I might write another part for it, but for now...it is what it is.


End file.
